"Whatsa matter, girl?" a raspy and belligerent female voice demanded. "Ain't this place decorated t'suit ya?"

I leaned farther back against the stone wall behind me, and looked up at the woman who had spoken. Her long skirt and tight, low-cut blouse were grimy, her body had spread into an unattractive middle age, and her face… Topped by raggedy blond hair, her face was blurry, showing just how drunk she was.

"As a matter of fact, it doesn't suit me," I answered, keeping my voice smooth and even. "All those iron bars are way out of style, but they probably don't have enough taste to know that. I think we'll have to tell them."

"Bars out of style," the woman repeated with a snort. "We'll hafta tell 'em. Thatsa good one. We'll hafta tell 'em."

She started cackling at the big joke, then stumbled away to pass it on to someone else. There were about fifteen women in that large, dim dungeon of a cell, so she had her choice. Two or three of the women were crying, but the rest seemed to be as disgusted as I felt.

"Nice going, Alex," I muttered to myself. "This is what you get for not paying attention. If you're very, very lucky, they'll hang you before Father finds out."

I looked around again at the dingy stone cell, knowing I wasn't about to have any kind of good luck. The city guardsmen had arrested me for horse stealing, but the High Magistrate would not have a chance to sentence me to hanging. My father would want to discuss the matter with me first, and only then would come the question of whether or not I hanged. And by what.

I'd kicked all the straw away from the place on the floor I'd picked to sit on, but it hadn't done all that much good, The dungeon cell was under the city jail and courthouse, with tiny slits of windows high up in the walls. The slits let in just enough air to keep us from suffocating; to clear the stench of fear and unbathed bodies, they would have needed to knock out a wall. The bugs and vermin were another story, and a roaring fire might have done some good. Even if I got out of there, my clothes would probably have to be burned…

All of which did nothing to change the fact that I had a problem. I sighed deeply, wondering again how I could have been so careless. Had I gotten so bored that I no longer cared whether or not I got caught? If that was true, then it was well past time to pack and leave. I'd been thinking more and more about traveling during the past year, but I'd been reluctant to leave the family. Now…

"I don't like people who think they're better than me," a voice stated, but not the same voice as earlier. Even before I looked up I knew this was a younger woman, and she certainly was. Closer to my age, she stood with fists on hips as she glared down at me. She wore the same kind of sandals, long skirt, and low-cut blouse that the first woman had, but she was larger, dark-haired, and definitely not drunk.

"Did you hear me?" she demanded. "I said I don't like people who think they're better than me. You better hurry up and tell me how wrong I am, that you're not better than me. And you better hope I believe it."

Most of the other women were paying very close attention, ready to be entertained by the antics of the cell bully. The girl's faint prettiness had a hardened edge to it, often one of the signs of a professional prostitute. She was obviously used to pushing around the girls of her house, an arrogance that possibly had led her to steal from a customer. Or into beating up on a co-worker.

"I do hope you'll believe me," I said as I rose smoothly to my feet to look down at her. "In this place nobody is better than anybody else, and if you don't understand that then you're stupid. And if you still think you want a fight with me, then you're beyond all hope."

"Big doesn't have to mean good," she blustered, but there was doubt in the yellow eyes looking up at me. "I've taken bigger than you, and they weren't virgins. You'd never stand a chance against me."

"If you think I'm a virgin at Shifting, then what are you waiting for?" I asked very mildly, seeing her flinch just a little at what must have been in my own eyes. All the disgust and annoyance I felt at myself was being redirected toward her, the anger inside refusing to let me do anything to stop it. "I prefer cat shape for serious fights," I told her. "How about you?"

Although her expression didn't change, she swallowed hard, and I could almost see her mind moving behind her eyes. Professional prostitutes aren't accepted in working houses unless they're better than average at changing shape; after all, they serve a large number of men with different tastes. If a girl can't change herself to accommodate most of the range, she's better off finding a different line of work. Or getting married, which isn't at all hard to do.

"Where would you get into a serious fight?" she asked at last, giving me a deliberate up-and-down. "If you were a professional you wouldn't be wearing pants and boots - not to mention a shirt instead of a blouse. If you had to hide in a fruit orchard, you'd probably turn yourself into an apple."

Our audience chuckled at the insult, happy to see that the girl was regaining her self-confidence. I'd called her stupid, and now she was saying the same to me. Only an idiot would try to hide in an orchard by changing into a piece of fruit. Anyone in pursuit would just have to look for the apple or pear with a hole in the ground under it. You can change your size and shape, but not your mass; only very young children don't understand that the smaller you make yourself, the more concentrated your mass becomes. An apple massing a hundred and thirty pounds or so will put a respectable dent in the ground it lies on. Assuming, of course, that you're able to Shift down that small, which most people can't.

"And you'd be a bowlegged bird on a bending branch," I returned with the next thing to a yawn. "Does that take care of the kiddie dialogue, or do we also have to get into a spitting contest? Make up your mind, you're starting to bore me."

"You mean you're too bored to answer my question?" she countered, cheeks flushing with anger. "I asked where someone like you could have gotten into a serious fight, but I didn't hear an answer. Does that mean you can't remember - or there aren't any fights?"

"You think that because I'm not poor I've never gotten into a fight?" I asked with all the ridicule I was feeling. "Have you any idea how unfriendly an upper-class crowd can be? Some of them aren't capable of full-range changing, but most are. I know professional girls have to be adaptable, but how close to full-range do you get?"

She hesitated over that, her frown telling me she'd forgotten that full-range abilities show up more often in the nobility. It's the reason they're considered nobility in the first place, but a lot of people miss the point. Those who complain about being low-class prefer to think they've been cheated out of something otherwise due them.

"If you're trying to say you come close to full-range, you're lying," she said after the pause, her mind finally made up, her yellow eyes hard. "I wouldn't believe one of you rich brats if you told me the sun is high at noon. Since you're so sure you're better than me, I'm going to give you a chance to prove it."

She started to step back, her faintly eager expression saying she'd seen through me. I'd been trying to talk her out of a fight because I couldn't fight, and that meant she was about to have some fun. Telling her she was wrong would have been a waste of breath, so I didn't bother. I gave a little shrug, folded my right hand into a fist, then socked her right in the mouth.

Vast surprise covered her face as she sat down hard, and then it was gone and she stretched out the rest of the way, completely unconscious. It was very quiet in the cell as I rubbed my knuckles, pairs of widened eyes staring at me from all sides. It isn't often that you see people using their hands or feet alone in a fight, not unless they're no more than chameleons. Most have at least one fighting shape to Shift into, and doing it is second nature.

But there are times when you can't let nature rule. The dark-haired girl would have had no chance against me, and her disbelief was no excuse for my hurting her. I knew enough people who would have used the excuse to have some fun, but that didn't mean I had to. I tend to do as I please, and let others worry about approval or disapproval.

Which, in a major way, was why I was behind bars just then. I'd been distracted from the problem for a short while, but that hadn't made it go away. I turned to go back to my piece of wall and a bit more brooding, but even that didn't work out. I heard a few sets of booted feet out in the corridor, and then a duty squad stopped in front of the cell. A small, well-dressed man was with them, and when I saw him I groaned.

"There she is, Sergeant," he said at once, his very dark eyes calm. "The tall young woman with the red hair. With your permission, I'll take her now."

"It's the Magistrate's permission you need, my lord, and you have that," the duty sergeant answered, already unlocking the cell. "All I have to do is sign her out in your custody."

"Come, Alexia," Merwin said in his soft, undemanding voice. "No sense leaving you in here for the night, when I shouldn't expect you would spend the night. Are you all right?"

"That's for you to tell me, I think," I responded, seeing that the men around him hadn't caught what he'd said. The cell they'd put me in had bars, for pity's sake. If they'd left me there overnight, I would have been gone as soon as everyone was asleep.

"Yes, you're quite right," he said as I moved through the cell door, his sharp, dark gaze looking up at me. "I would say the state of your health is in very delicate balance at the moment, and the prognosis isn't good. Your father wants to see you as soon as I get you home."

"I knew I wouldn't be lucky enough to hang," I muttered, at which Merwin chuckled. "And I wish you would stop enjoying yourself so much. When he kills me, you'll have the bother of attending a funeral."

"Let's see to the rest of your release and then we can discuss the matter," he soothed with a gentle smile. "I have a coach waiting outside."

Where we'll have privacy, was the unspoken addition. At that point, it didn't matter to me one way or the other, but I knew my father's views on discussing private matters publicly. Rather than add fuel to an already raging fire, I shrugged and went along quietly.

With the number of times Merwin had to sign his name, I'm sure he could no longer spell it by the time he was through. They even turned over my personal possessions to him, but he made no effort to pass them to me. He carried the small pouch as he led the way to the waiting coach, stood aside to let me climb in first, then followed. When he slammed the door the coach began to move, but not very quickly.

"Quite a lot of people in the streets today," Merwin observed, glancing out the window to his right. "Since it will be raining tomorrow, they're undoubtedly seeing to extra chores before then."

"I enjoy traveling in the rain," I observed back, watching him in the same casual way he looked at the populace. "Those who can stay inside do, so the streets and roads aren't crowded."

"No, you will not," he pronounced, now giving me the full weight of those eyes. "You will not take off for parts unknown, not when I've been made responsible for you. Whatever possessed you to take a prize racing stallion from your father's stable? Did you believe no one would notice, or simply that no one would care?"

"I borrowed the horse to win a bet," I said, leaning back on the very uncomfortable coach seat. "The people involved were thieves, stealing the money of everyone they raced their horse against. The animal was also a stallion, and it terrorized every horse running in opposition. Gray Thunder is pure ego, and he's faster than their nag. They said they would win against any and all comers, so I introduced them to a comer."

"There's something you aren't saying," Merwin decided, now studying me through narrowed eyes. "And it occurs to me to wonder where your winnings are. Your possessions include only five gold pieces, two silver, and a few coppers. I was under the impression the race had long been won by the time the city guard caught up to you."

"It had," I said, taking my own turn to study the people we were passing. In that neighborhood the buildings were mostly of stone, and a lot of the people matched. Stiff, formal, very full of self-importance… Why was being important so important to them?

"You gave your winnings to those you considered 'cheated,'" Merwin said, and there was no questioning in his tone. "You had no interest in keeping the gold for yourself, only in righting a wrong. Child, child, what in all the worlds is there to be done with you?"

"What's wrong with hanging?" I asked, my gaze still on the scenery. "Since my nefarious schemes bother so many people, put an end to me and have done with it."

"You have no idea how truly tempted I am," he answered, the words very dry. "You persist in taking up all sorts of personal crusades, and never once stop to consider the consequences. Will you never understand you have a position to maintain, and righting wrongs is no part of it?"

"That's your opinion," I told him bluntly, bringing my stare back to his face. "You may enjoy having other people define your position and activities, but I don't. I find it intolerable and boring, just like living in this kingdom. As soon as my father is through handing me my head, I'm going traveling."

"So that's why you made no effort to cover your tracks," he said, his round face abruptly startled. "You made the decision to leave, and then sought a way to show your father how little he would be losing. Do you truly believe he'll allow you to go off all alone?"

"I'm beyond the age where I need his permission," I said, only faintly surprised to find that Merwin was right. I had been laying the groundwork for leaving, or at least my sneaky inner mind had. The rest of me still felt reluctant to take that major a step, no matter how necessary it was.

"With certain fathers, no daughter grows beyond the need for his permission." Merwin was now amused, but only distantly. "My dear Alexia, what you really need is a home and family of your own. We've had peace so long that the male population has risen out of all proportion to the female, so you can't say there isn't a wide selection. Find a man who suits you, and settle down with him."

"Settling down has never been the standard cure for boredom," I told him. "There are a lot of worlds out there to see, and all I need is a magic user to open the gates. When I get back I'll probably write a book."

"And if I believe that, you have a wonderful tract of swampland to sell me," he returned with a snort. "Your father won't believe it either, nor will he care whether or not it's true. He'll simply forbid you to go, and that includes sightseeing as well as adventuring."

"He can't forbid me to go," I returned wearily, feeling as though I'd been repeating myself for an hour. "He can't direct the life of a fully grown adult, and he knows it even if you don't. And I'm sure he also knows it wouldn't be very smart to try, not when I'm the adult."

"That has all the earmarks of a threat," Merwin noted, then narrowed his eyes at me again. "Let me see now, what could be in… Yes, of course. Your escapades until now have been for the most part innocent. If you aren't permitted to leave quietly, they'll change to - what? The deliberately destructive, the indelicately embarrassing? What did you have in mind?"

"I haven't found it necessary to make a decision about that," I said, beginning to feel annoyed. "I'm sure my father will be a lot more sensible than you're being. Even he doesn't push my temper too hard unless he's already lost his own."

"More threats?" he asked with raised brows. "At least this one is vague enough to be no more than a warning. Is this the point I'm supposed to become frightened?"

"That choice is entirely yours," I answered very softly, locking eyes with him. "I would never think to impose my beliefs on others."

"Stop that!" Merwin tried to snap, but the words came out a squeak. "I've seen you speak softly to others like that - Child, I know you won't harm me no matter how vexed you become, but a part of me deep inside knows nothing of the same. You will therefore do an old man the courtesy of sending that threatening gaze elsewhere before it becomes necessary to call a healer."

The sweat on his forehead told me he wasn't joking. That meant he would probably leave me alone for a while, which was what I'd been trying to accomplish. I nodded obligingly, then looked out the window again.

My eyes saw the better neighborhood we were beginning to move through, but my mind registered nothing of the large private houses and neat grounds. Instead I heard again the words Merwin had used, about the position I was supposed to maintain. Social position, he'd meant, as well as public stance, remaining above the mundane at all times.

I felt tempted to make a very rude noise, one to show my opinion of the entire concept. Why was it supposed to mean anything to me that my father was a king? I hadn't made him a king, and I wasn't his eldest child or even his eldest daughter. Was he likely to lose his place as king because I didn't happen to agree with the accepted standard for a princess? If I let myself be bored to death, would that make his position more secure?

Since the answer to that was "no," I honestly couldn't understand why everyone was making such a fuss. Who got hurt when I lived my own life? No one, not even those who thought I shouldn't. Who would be hurt when I picked up and left? No one, not even my mother. She was a good person and I knew she loved me, but I wasn't her only child. She might miss me for a little while, but that would hardly keep her from going on with her own life.

I sighed as I saw that we were drawing closer to the palace, closer to the place where my father waited to "discuss" my latest "escapade." He was a strong king and a strong man, and really hated it when I got into trouble. My being a girl had something to do with his attitude, but not entirely. He came down just as hard on my brothers if they got into trouble, but that didn't often happen. I was the black sheep of the family, and that was a thought that made me smile. What would he do, I wondered, if I Shifted into the form of an actual black sheep before going in to see him? Laugh his head off, or turn me into lamb chops…?

Considering the mood he'd been in lately, it wasn't reasonable to expect him to laugh. I shifted around on the coach seat, wishing the argument was already behind me. And it would be an argument, that I knew for certain. We were so much alike, he and I, but he already had what he wanted. Now I wanted it to be my turn, and that's what I would be fighting for.

The rest of the ride passed with an inner silence to match the outer one, not precisely brooding, but not far from it. Other coaches passed us on the wide street, but when it came to the right-of-way, it was always ours. My father's sigil on the coach doors saw to that, and also brought servants running when we pulled up in front of the palace. Let's not waste time getting the condemned to the execution…

Merwin got out of the coach first, turned to give me a hand I didn't need, then led the way inside. Half the servants were staring at me while the other half avoided eye contact, a sure sign that they'd heard the latest. I would have been surprised if they hadn't, and it made little difference to my plans. If after I was gone everyone believed my father had thrown me out, it might do more good than harm.

"Lord Merwin," I called after the nervously hurrying little man. He paused and turned back to me. "I'm going to my apartment to bathe and change my clothes. You'll let me know when my father is ready to see me?"

"Your Highness, His Majesty is ready to see you now," Merwin replied immediately. "You're to accompany me to his study, then wait while I speak to him first in private. That will take only a moment, and then the audience will be yours."

"Audience?" I repeated, tickled by so diplomatic a word. "And he doesn't care to wait until I've washed off the dungeon stink. It looks like you might have to reconsider your opinions about whether or not he'll let me leave."

Merwin began to answer the semi-challenge, then realized we were no longer alone. He closed his lips again, gave me the most neutral bow I'd ever seen, and went back to leading the way.

My father's favorite study was in the middle of the palace on the ground floor, beside an inner court filled with grass and flowers. Merwin let one of the two door guards knock and announce him before disappearing inside with the door closed behind him. I usually visited my father's private garden when I was that close to it, but at the moment I wasn't in the mood. I took a seat on the nearest stone bench instead, and studied the declining day through the terrace windows opposite. The clouds were already gathering for the rain due tomorrow, and that felt extremely appropriate.

Merwin hadn't been lying about how short a time he would be. No more than five minutes passed before the door opened again, and he gestured to show it was my turn. I took my time getting up and walking over, and when I stepped through the doorway my father's stare was on me immediately.

"We thank you for your assistance, Lord Merwin," he said, making no effort to look at the man he addressed. "You may retire now."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Merwin acknowledged, and then a sound came of the door closing. It felt exactly as it had when they'd closed the door to the dungeon cell on me, something that made that whole situation even better.

"Come over here and sit down," my father said very flatly, gesturing to the chair about three feet away from him. "We have a long discussion ahead of us."

To say his tone was unfriendly would be like saying I'd made a minor mistake. His stare should have melted me as I walked across the floor and sat in the chair, or at least shriveled me a little. My father, King Reynar III, was a big man with full knowledge of who and what he was; when he lowered himself into his own chair, you would have sworn he was settling onto his throne.

"I want you to know how much I enjoyed being told my daughter was in the city lockup," he said after a short pause. "Most people didn't know she was my daughter, they just thought she was an ordinary horse thief. And, strangely enough, I didn't even have to ask which of my daughters it was."

His deep voice was perfectly calm, but I could see the anger smoldering in his golden eyes. I was the only one of his daughters to have inherited his red hair, but like both of my sisters and two of my brothers, I had our mother's silver eyes.

"You seem to have nothing to say to that," he observed, not particularly pleased. "Would you have been insulted if I hadn't known it was you? Just what is it you're trying to do?"

"Why does simply living my life mean I'm trying to 'do' something?" I asked, working to match his calm. "I realize I should have told someone I was taking Gray Thunder, but no one was around and I was in a hurry. If you're interested in apologies, I have one all ready. This time I owe at least one."

"This time, but not any of the others," he said, his words fractionally less even. "You disrupt the lives of everyone around you on an almost daily basis, but none of that calls for apology. You're simply 'living your life.'"

"That's right," I agreed, shifting just a little in the chair. "Maybe I don't do it the way people think I should, but I don't tell anyone else how to live. What gives them the right to try telling me?"

"The fact that you live among other people means you have to consider them," he pronounced, leaning forward a bit. "How many times have I told you that? As long as what you do affects others, you can't blithely dismiss upsetting them by claiming you don't tell them how to live. Your inconsiderate behavior forces them to deal with you, and that's worse than telling them things."

"Inconsiderate behavior," I echoed, seeing that we were finally getting down to it. "What you mean is that I refuse to act the way they expect me to. If I held lunch parties for all the fine ladies of the city, then went out to comfort one or two poor unfortunates in the needy section, that would be fine. People like to see a princess wasting her time that way. But let her try to take the training her brothers are given, or dare to walk around without an escort, or actually get to know some people who don't have even a single title to their name-"

"It isn't safe for you to do those things," my father interrupted with something of a growl. "Why can't you understand that? By the time I found out you were taking battle training, you were already past the worst part and I was advised to let it continue. The children of a king are always at risk, so against my better judgment I let you learn how to defend yourself. But that doesn't mean I gave my approval to your running around all over the kingdom by yourself. Are you under the impression I have no enemies who would strike at me through you?"

"If all they want to do is give themselves away, let them try," I answered with a shrug. "I heard a couple of your courtiers talking once, and they seemed to think I was a decoy set out by you. I only seemed to be running around on my own, and was actually being watched very carefully. If anyone tried for me, your guardsmen would pounce. I thought that was rather funny."

"You would," he said sourly. "We've been trying to figure out where your so-called sense of humor comes from ever since you started talking. But that absurd rumor, if true, doesn't mean you're safe. You're a very pretty girl, Alexia, and there are a lot of men in this world who think they're entitled to take whatever they like. If you believe they'd have to come at you one at a time, you're being naive."

"Father, I don't believe that," I said with a sigh. "But I also don't believe I'd be at much of a disadvantage. Just because I can defend myself doesn't mean I'm too stupid to know when I'm outnumbered. It isn't beneath my dignity to run, and I can probably Shift through a wider range than people like that. I'm not in anything like the kind of danger you've been picturing."

"Then it's only my imagination that just this morning you were in danger of hanging?" he countered with raised brows. "What would you have done if I hadn't been told it was you in that cell?"

"Oh, I would have managed," I said with a vague gesture, not about to admit I'd been going to break out. Those cells had never been designed to hold someone capable of full-range Shifting, and once everyone had fallen asleep…

"I refuse to ask how you would have managed," he said. "I promised your mother not to lose my temper - Alexia, we're just wasting time here, and right now I can't afford it. I spent half the day thinking about you when I should have been concentrating on a problem that affects the kingdom, but I did come to certain conclusions. The difficulty you represent has to stop right now, and there's only one way to make that happen."

"It looks like we finally agree," I said as I watched him get up and head for the wine decanters. "But before we get into that, I'm curious. What sort of problem affecting the kingdom are you working on?"

"If you stayed home a little more you'd already know," he told me, pouring two cups of wine. "You hadn't heard that we've been contacted by one of the gate realms, one of the places lying beyond our world's gates?"

"I heard a rumor to that effect, yes," I conceded, trying, to dredge up details. Gate realms are those places just beyond a given world's gates, some really close by and therefore almost the same as our world, some so far away they're nothing familiar at all. Each gate offers a choice of worlds for your destination, but ordinary people can't make the choice for themselves. Only the Sighted can perceive the gates and use them, and they're supposed to be able to tell what lies beyond once they step into a gate. Everyday people like me needed a Sighted to go through with, and I'd sometimes wondered about that. What if the Sighted of a world didn't tell their people about the gates, or for some reason were afraid to admit to their people that they were Sighted…?

"Their realm lies in a place where, entrywise, it's right next to ours," I went on, coming back to the point. "If our magic users created entries that are, for all intents and purposes, shortcut gates, we'd be right on top of each other and could trade with no trouble at all."

"Essentially correct," he agreed, handing me a cup of wine before returning to his chair. "Trading would be made so simple and inexpensive it would be like trading with ourselves at a profit. But that's only part of the story, the easy part."

He paused to sip at his wine, then shook his head. "The primary reason they approached us has to do with weather," he said. "They did some research and discovered that when they have a drought, we have floods. When we have a drought, they have floods. If we both set up the proper entries across the countryside, our floodwaters can irrigate their farmlands during a drought and vice versa. It would save acres of crops on both sides, and put an end to famine caused by the vagaries of the weather."

"But?" I prompted, knowing there was a but. "If the arrangement is so beneficial, what's bothering you?"

"The fact that the arrangement can also be harmful," he answered with a sigh, golden eyes showing weariness. "Once the entries are created, they have to be left in place. If only water comes and goes through them, there's nothing to worry about. But what if an army suddenly comes through? I'd have people watching, of course, but that would still provide very little warning. I'd need a standing army of my own, already on the alert."

"And keeping a standing army of any size is very costly, but not only in gold," I said with a nod of understanding. "Filling the ranks takes men out of the work force, disrupting the economy. The army has to eat, but can't contribute any effort toward its feeding. And if they have to sit around for any length of time - Well, there's that saying about idle hands. If I'd ever been silly enough to think I'd enjoy taking your place, this would have done a good job of changing my mind."

"Two of your brothers are coming close to agreeing with you," he said with a humorless smile. "I can't simply refuse to consider the offer, not when so many people would benefit from the arrangement. I also can't forget my doubts and agree, not when it could put my people in such danger. I have to find out what these strangers are really like, without visiting their realm to see a possibly prepared picture. Our people have no interest in war unless we're attacked; how do their people feel about it?"

"More to the point, how do their leaders feel?" I countered. "And if they do happen to be into conquest at the moment, how good is their word? Would they die rather than break their oath, or is lying their favorite pastime? I think you really do need someone to take a close look at them, Father."

"I've already taken care of that," he said, ruining my plan to volunteer for the job. "I've sent an official embassy to match the one from them on its way to us, and also a few unofficial ones. Between them we ought to get some answers, but I want something more. The people they've sent will have been handpicked; if I can somehow get true, honest reactions out of them…"

His voice trailed off as his brows rose, and I didn't need to be told he'd gotten an idea. That was one of the things that made him such a good king: the ability to improvise. If he couldn't get things done with what he had at hand, he reached out as far as necessary to find other things.

"If I can help with that idea you just got, please let me know," I said, trying to sound suitably supportive. Playing politics bores me, but right then I owed my father more than a token apology. If he needed my brand of sneaking around, he'd have it.

"As a matter of fact, you're fully involved in the idea," he said, those eyes now looking at me rather than into the distance. "Using my major problems to solve each other is an idea I really enjoy. I'm going to ask the arriving embassy to be judges for the competition."

"What competition?" I asked, suddenly feeling as though I'd been caught not paying attention. "The spring games were three months ago."

"Alexia, I had a long talk with your mother," he said, ignoring the question I'd put. "My solution to the problem you present upset her, but she had to admit there was no other choice. If you keep going on like this, you'll eventually be hurt. Neither she nor I want to see that."

"Then we should be able to come to an agreement," I said, relieved that he had raised the subject. "I've been doing some considering of my own, and everything comes down to the fact that I'm bored. I hope you know I love you and Mother, but I just can't stay here any longer. I've decided to go traveling, and see what I can of the worlds."

"Before today you could have done that," he answered, suddenly looking pleased. "I would have been furious with you for even thinking about it, but legally I couldn't have stopped you. Now that you're a horse thief, though, you're subject to the courts just like everyone else. The High Magistrate has taken official notice that you had Gray Thunder when you were arrested, and even admitted taking him. If you go to trial, you'll certainly be found guilty."

"Are you saying you've decided to let me hang?" I asked, trying not to look as wide-eyed as I felt. My own father and mother, agreeing to let me be executed?

"You have no idea how seriously I considered it, even if for only a moment," he growled, briefly an annoyed king rather than an exasperated father. "I've started believing you want something to happen to you, just to make some sort of vague point. But no, you won't be hanging. The High Magistrate agreed to impose a lesser sentence. If you're tried and found guilty, you'll spend the next ten years as a city worker. The city hires out prisoners for menial jobs cheaply, and the coppers or silver they earn goes into the city coffers. You'll sweep, sew, scrub, and wash, and you won't be given the opportunity to escape."

"I think I'd rather hang," I muttered, but a nasty idea was threading its way through the shock I felt. "You said if I'm tried and found guilty. Let me make a wild guess and say you have an alternative choice."

"I knew you'd understand more quickly than someone else in your place," he commented with a grin. "The only other choice you have is a decision that's already been made for you. Come the day after tomorrow, notices of a full-range competition will go up, the sort that hasn't been held in more than four hundred years. The object of the competition will be to find the most adaptable single man in this kingdom - and his prize will be your hand in marriage."

My jaw headed for the floor along with the cup of wine I'd been holding, and I could feel the blood drain out of my face.

"You can't be serious," I choked out, suddenly wondering if Merwin had been trying to prepare me for this. "You'd force me into marriage, and with some stranger? I don't want to get married, and I'm sure you know it."

"Alexia, you need a man to bring some normal interest into your life," he said, and now his words were gentle. "Your mother and I have introduced you to every eligible male in a five-world, thousand-mile radius. Most of them you ignored, and the rest you insulted. Don't you ever want to know a strong man's love?"

"I've already tried it and wasn't impressed," I told him bluntly, hoping to shake him off-balance. "If you were picturing your baby girl as innocent, you're a few years too late. Now that you know you can't offer a virgin, let's forget about this competition thing and get down to serious negotiation. We-"

"I never said I was offering a virgin," he interrupted, his skin faintly mottled from suppressed anger. "And I wasn't referring to physical love, although that's another point to consider. To paraphrase an old saying, if you weren't impressed, you weren't doing it right."

"Let's find something else to disagree over," I suggested, too embarrassed to care about being clever. I'd been trying to shock him; instead of being shocked, he sounded as if he were ready to send me somewhere for lessons. It's a hell of a world when a father discusses his daughter's affairs calmly.

"There isn't anything for us to disagree over," he immediately disagreed. "At the end of the competition I'll declare a celebration feast, and we'll combine that with the wedding ceremony. That's when you get to decide whether you'd rather be married or sentenced."

"And if I decide on the sentencing, you'll let it happen for my own good," I summed up, "just the way you let Kinel use up a month's allowance to buy a horse when he was fifteen. You knew the horse wasn't as good as Kinel thought, but when he insisted you let him buy it. And afterward made him go the entire month without a single copper to spend. He had to stay home while his friends were out enjoying themselves."

"And even after ten years he remembers the lesson clearly," my father agreed with a nod. "It taught him to act responsibly, which is the same lesson I expect you to learn. My children will always be free to do as they like - as long as they're willing to accept the consequences of their freedom."

"If I simply picked up and left, I'd no longer be a problem to you," I pointed out, swallowing down a sick feeling. "I want to travel, Father - it's all I've been thinking about for the past year. You have my solemn word that I'll never cause you trouble or embarrassment again. I won't even come back without your permission-"

"Alexia," he said, interrupting again. There was a lot of compassion in his eyes - right behind the determination. "I'm not doing this to hurt you, child. I'm doing it to keep you from being hurt, and it doesn't have to be the end of your dreams. After you're married you can travel with your husband, as often as he's able to leave his responsibilities. Don't you see–"

By that time I was out of my chair and heading for the door, in point of fact not able to see much at all. It had been quite a while since the last time I'd cried, and privacy would be much more suitable to the occasion. I took a back way up to my apartment, happily finding it completely empty.

My apartment had a small sewing room that I'd done very little sewing in, but the room hadn't been neglected. Its wide casement had a padded window seat, and I'd spent a lot of hours watching the world through that window. It was a perfect place for thinking - or dreaming, or brooding - and no one else used it. It was my place, and just then I very much needed a place that was mine.

I closed the door behind me and walked slowly to the window seat, no longer crying but not far from it. I'd been so clever in my planning to get away from home without argument, so really brilliant and creative. Things were working out so well it was a miracle I was still alive.

But not a good miracle. I slumped down onto the seat, no longer caring how my clothes smelled. Outside it was getting to be late afternoon, darker than it should have been because of the gathering clouds. Sometime tonight the rain would start, and tomorrow there would be a sea of mud…

"I refuse to let him force me into this," I whispered to the diamond-shaped panes of the casement. "I would rather hang than accept either of his alternatives, and if I really have to I'll make it happen."

The only trouble with that was that I didn't want to die. There was so much I hadn't done or seen - and now probably never would. One way or the other, my life would never again be mine to direct. I'd done something wrong and had been condemned for it, the reason behind the wrongdoing making no difference at all. My father hadn't even asked why I'd taken Gray Thunder, and I understood the reason. He didn't care what had put my life into his hands; he was too busy being delighted something had.

A knock suddenly came at the door, but company was the last thing I was in the mood for. I ignored the noise in the hope that the knocker would give up and go away, but no such luck. Rather than give up, the knocker opened the door and walked in.

"I knew you were in here," my mother said, advancing across the carpeting. "This has always been your favorite haven, but today it's much too gloomy. Why don't we light a lamp and lighten the scene at the same time?"

She was trying very hard to be cheerful and pleasant but I wasn't in any mood to join in the effort. I continued to sit there and stare out the window, and she quickly got the message.

"It always upsets your father when he has to be strict with you, but today was the worst," she said in a very gentle voice, her hand coming to my shoulder. "He was so disturbed he didn't even notice his favorite carpet had been ruined by spilled wine. Alex-"

"If you think he's bothered now, wait until he finds that I won't go along with his little plot," I couldn't help saymg. "When that happens, you'd better have healers standing by."

"To tend whose bloody carcass?" she asked, her hand gone with the gentleness. "His or yours? Why must you two be so alike, and why must you always fight? I always have to make peace between you, but if I get in the middle this time, I'll be the one needing a healer."

"He's the one trying to force people into things," I muttered, trying to forget all the times my mother had intervened. "I offered to solve his problem by leaving, but he refused to even consider the idea. He likes his own too well to want to abandon it."

"I should hope so," she said, moving to her left to sit opposite me in the window seat. My mother was a very beautiful woman with reddish-brown hair and silver eyes, and her riding outfit said she'd been out on horseback. Her gloves were still tucked into her belt, and she held the pouch with my belongings that Merwin had had.

"I should hope so," she said again, tossing me the pouch after she was seated. "You don't solve a problem by running away from it, and that's what you'd be trying to do if you left. You know you're not happy here, but you don't know why. Find that out, and you won't have to leave."

"I'm not happy here because I want to travel," I told her, ignoring the pouch. "There, now that I know the reason I can stay here and travel to my heart's content."

"I think if you'd been my first child, I'd probably have refused to have any more," she commented with a sour look. "Even as a baby - Well, that doesn't really matter. What does matter is the fact that your father has broken one of his own personal rules in an effort to help you. Being free and on your own hasn't helped you in the least, so now he's trying it the other way. Don't you think you might try it, just to see how it works?"

"You make it sound as simple as trying on a pair of boots," I scoffed. "If they feel good, go ahead and keep them. If they don't, toss them out into the trash. Don't you think the winner of a full-range competition might protest just a little over being thrown into the trash?"

"Is that what's bothering you the most?" she asked, one dark brow arched. "The virtual certainty that you won't be able to treat your husband the way you've treated your boyfriends?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, honestly puzzled. "And what boyfriends are you talking about?"

"Maybe I should have called them passing male acquaintances," she responded. "Considering that they were all rather good-looking I can't fault your taste, but as far as personality goes - I'm sure they were all adequate in bed, but were you ever able to talk to any of them?"

"As far as I know they were all capable of speech," I answered, beginning to get annoyed. "I just didn't happen to want them for discussions. Don't you and Father have anything better to do with your time than catalog the men I've had sex with?"

"If you ever have a troubled child, we'll see how well you do at minding your own business," she countered, not in the least embarrassed. "But you're still avoiding my question. You made no commitment at all to any of the men you've been with, not even to the extent of treating them as equals. Is-"

"But they weren't my equals," I interrupted with a laugh. "They knew that as well as I did, so what would have been the point in pretending? You think they never tested their range against mine, or tried to see how far my battle skills extended? They hated admitting it when they couldn't measure up, but they still had to do it."

"Could that be it?" She looked abruptly startled. "You were born with a great deal of ability, and your nature forced you to improve yourself in every way you could. Then one day you looked around and discovered no one could match you. It had to make you feel terribly lonely, and that's why you want to travel. To search for someone who can be a full companion. But Alex, your father must have seen that, and that's why he decided on the competition. To find you the best man available."

"The best of a bunch of second-raters is still a second-rater," I pointed out. "Even if what you say is true - and it strikes me as being too simple - that competition won't solve a thing. I'd be stuck with someone who resented me for being better than him, and I refuse to allow that. I really would rather hang."

"I don't think I blame you," she muttered, brows raised over troubled eyes. "I would myself. But what if you're wrong? What if the competition does find someone your equal? Why not wait and see?"

"And then what?" I asked with a snort. "Find myself needing to decide between bitter resentment and ten years at drudge labor? Especially when I'll know I could have beaten the winner without half trying?"

"Alex, dear, I'm sorry," she said as she put a hand out to me, obviously serious. "If you're thinking about running away, I'm afraid that won't be possible. Your father is having a team of Sighted watch you, just to prevent something like that. I'll have a talk with him-"

"To accomplish what?" I interrupted again. "If there's one thing I've learned, it's that strong men will laugh at the idea of any woman being stronger. Trying to tell him differently would be a waste of time."

"You're probably right, but I still have to try," she responded with a sigh, then got to her feet. "Maybe I can point out how silly we'll all look if the winner of his competition is made a fool of by his wild, undisciplined daughter. He might decide to forget the idea rather than let that happen."

She smiled and gave my hand a reassuring pat, then left the room with a definite sense of purpose. I knew she would try speaking to my father, but when he thought he was right he had a habit of not hearing opposing opinions. If anyone was going to get me out of that mess it would have to be me, but right then I couldn't see how. If only I could get my father to believe me without using force…

At that point I sat up slowly on the seat, the glimmering of an idea beginning to show itself. I'd have to spend part of the next day doing research, but if I found what I needed the time would be well spent. My father would be furious, of course, but that couldn't be helped. Better him furious than me stuck between two impossible situations.

I stared out my favorite window while the plan began to solidify, and actually found a smile. It would rain tomorrow, and what better way to brighten the gloom than to ruin someone's plot to take advantage of the helpless…?